


Assuaged Fear

by Cumberbatch Critter (ivelostmyspectacles)



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Tag, Episode: S01E09 Sanctuary, F/M, Fear, Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Or Alternate Moment anyway, Sort of a coda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-22 20:17:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2520461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivelostmyspectacles/pseuds/Cumberbatch%20Critter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abbie said her and haunted houses don't go together, during the Frederick's Manor incident.</p>
<p>Alternate moment on if there had been some Ichabbie h/c goodness.</p>
<p>"Abbie flinched, flashlight beam bouncing as she took a half step backwards. When Ichabod reached for her shoulder this time, it was to steady her as she wobbled after tripping over his foot."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Assuaged Fear

**Author's Note:**

> I'm re-watching Season One... Have to admit, Sanctuary is one my favourites. But, you know...

Ichabod was acutely aware of that fact that Miss Mills had some predisposition to dislike haunted houses. Not that he knew a soul that did, in fact, _like_ such a thing, but there was something deeper in it for his companion. Most likely it had to do with the events in the woods many years ago that had battered all traces of tolerance of such things out of her system. Ichabod sympathized. He did not like haunted houses, either.

Abbie sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. It shook. "Okay. Okay, so, what the hell do we do now?"

Ichabod cast another glance around the room. "There seem to be no visible exits... Whatever is keeping us in here does not design to let us out."

" _Not_ helping, Crane," Abbie hissed.

Ichabod turned his gaze back onto the Lieutenant. He knew that she prided herself on being the ever-strong type. He respected her strength, but her... inability to express proper emotion, sometimes, irked him to distress. As was currently, where he could tell that she was unsettled by the preceedings, but he had no way of telling exactly why or how badly it was really affecting her. He had been the one to mention Fredrick's Manor as a place of interest; it was his job to deal with the ramifications of mentioning the place, never-mind if it would have brought her there nonetheless.

"Apologies," he breathed. "Well... if all the apparent exits are closed off, perhaps our next step should be finding an _unapparent_ exit."

Abbie turned her gaze on him. He squinted in the beam of her flashlight. "So, a secret exit. Great. How are we supposed to find something that's not meant to be found?"

"I do not know," Ichabod admitted, "but standing idle will not either find our exit or Miss Gilbert. Shall we?" he gestured towards the connecting room.

Abbie huffed out a breath again, but nodded determinedly. She stalked ahead of him, flashlight poised and gun at the ready. Ichabod followed close behind her.

By such design that, at a yet unidentifiable noise, Miss Mills came to a abrupt stop and Ichabod bumped into her before he could catch himself.

"I'm sorry." He steadied himself by putting his hand on her shoulder. He must have imagined that he felt her shiver in that instant, surely? It wasn't that cold in the manor, or was that a reaction of fear?

Abigail didn't seem to notice either his apology or his touch. "What was that?"

"I don't know," Ichabod repeated. His lack of knowledge was becoming a habit. "But best not stay here to find out."

"Right." Abbie straightened and repositioned her gun and light. "Right," she repeated, and started forward again.

Ichabod exhaled softly and followed after her again.

When noise came again, at the whim of either benevolent or malevolent spirit residing in the manor, Ichabod felt the hair on the back of his own neck stand up. Abbie flinched, flashlight beam bouncing as she took a half step backwards. When Ichabod reached for her shoulder this time, it was to steady her as she wobbled after tripping over his foot.

"Careful," he admonished softly, but not before there was another noise and Abbie flinched further into his presence. Instinct presided this time; Ichabod slipped his arms around her and pulled her against his chest. He realized it was a brazen move, but Abbie was most definitely shivering beneath that faux-calm facade.

Abbie stiffened in the confines of his arms for a long moment, before the tension left her shoulders. She did not make to embrace him back, but her fingers, still clutching the flashlight tightly, pressed against the wool of his topcoat lightly.

Ichabod let out a breath he wasn't aware that he'd been holding.

"Maybe not the place, Crane," Abbie muttered after a moment, although she didn't step away. "Probably not the time."

Ichabod was quick to retract his arms when she spoke. "My apologies, Miss Mills." My goodness, he was saying that a lot as well. "I reacted before I thought."

Abbie smiled up at him slightly. "No, that's... basically what you're supposed to do. Maybe not in the middle of a haunted house, though. Well," she added, "not a real one."

Ichabod's eyebrows pulled together. "There are fake ones?" he asked incredulously. Why would anyone wish to experience a fake haunted house when the real ones were so horrific and deadly as it were?

"Yeah." Abbie took a step away, smoothing out her coat. "Where things can't actually kill you."

"Oh." Ichabod still didn't understand, but he chose not to bring it up now. "Perhaps we should move on, and endeavour to get out of this home as quickly as possible."

Abbie nodded. "Yeah, best idea I've heard all day. Come on."

"Miss Mills?" Ichabod held out his hand to her. She looked back at him questioningly. "So that we do not get seperated," he explained. "Together, we are much more formidable a force."

Abbie looked at him for a long moment before nodding, smiling weakly again. "That sounds good, too," she said, and put her hand in his.

Ichabod smiled slightly despite their less than satisfactory circumstances and interlaced his fingers with hers. Everyday, they became more entwined, and Ichabod did not plan on letting go.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted some Ichabbie Ichabod helping Abbie with her fear. Unfortunately, the show denied me Ichabbie goodness and now I'm writing for this fandom, so, huzzah!
> 
> I do not own _Sleepy Hollow_. Thanks!


End file.
